Villainous [Wattys 2021 Shortlist]

47: Confrontation

Delilah and Dante watched the undead collide with the three nations. The fear that seemed to spread through them was like a visible thing, a fog settling on the soldiers' shoulders.

"If everything goes very wrong," Dante said, almost too quietly for her to hear, "find me. There's one last thing... that could win this for us. And I need you by my side to pull it off."

"You need a girl with a lame leg?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I've been relying on her more than I should admit. I need her now more than ever."

Delilah grinned, even as she watched undead swords flash and human bodies fall. The din was incredibly loud, even so far away. "Apologise."

"What?"

"Apologise for leaving me, and then I might stay by your side. Might."

"I am sorry, Delilah Coppin."

"Dante," Hawk called, as they watched the undead plough into the army. "Do we join the battle?"

"Wait a moment longer, Hawk. We'll join when they're tired, confused and scared."

The undead had charged in an arrowhead formation - and the ranks had been scattered across the valley.

"Now!" Dante shouted, and flicked the reins. The Opals burned with a fierce light and Delilah followed suit.

They led the rest of their army over the lip of the valley. A captain had released the pack of wolves Delilah and Hawk had captured in the forest, and streaks of grey sped past them, pulling ahead. Black crows were dark shadows as the aerial legion swooped out of the mist above their heads.

Freezing air blasted Delilah and her stomach seemed to have jumped to her throat. They were cantering down the steep slope, the earth flashing past around them, and she wasn't sure if it was terror, satisfaction or hunger for blood she felt as her leg throbbed again.

The battle was looming, very close now. A pulse of heat emanated from Dante's helmet, sweeping over the fighting and making enemy soldiers glance up in terror.

Delilah lost sight of everything as her horse breached the battle. At first she was going too fast to do anything, so she cantered past fighters, straight into the thick of it. She unsheathed Ifling and used it to block an arrow fired at her.

Being on horseback was wonderful - she was so high up above everyone else, and her horse was trampling whoever was unlucky enough to be in its path.

Her luck didn't last. Soldiers sliced into the horse's legs, and Delilah hissed as the steed crumpled beneath her. She wrenched her feet from the stirrups and hit the ground running.

Wielding Icefang, Delilah became a whirl of death. She cut down the shocked soldiers around her while nimbly trying to avoid the undead - she wasn't sure whether they could distinguish friend from foe, especially now things were getting messy. The adrenalin pumping through her numbed her leg.

She felt invincible, and men fell like stalks of wheat around her.

There was a flash of light in the distance as Dante let loose a large plume of fire. An entire legion collapsed before him, and everyone nearby started to scream.

The clash of weapons and shouting was deafening. Bodies pressed in on Delilah from either side, and the wet mud was slippery underfoot. Soon she was fighting to stay upright on the unstable ground. The rain did little to cool her face.

A heavily-built Terran man slammed into her, and Delilah spat hair out of her mouth as she whirled to intercept his blows. He was like a mountain, and worry flashed through her when she thought of her leg.